


I Can't...(stop you putting roots in my dreamland)

by evervillains (ember_eleven)



Category: The Poppy War - R. F. Kuang
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ember_eleven/pseuds/evervillains
Summary: Chaghan and Altan are living together for their third year of college and Chaghan is feeling some type of angsty way about it. There are tears, poor decison making, laughter, unexpected guests, Halloween costumes, and two boys who've outrun their demons but can't outrun each other.I needed a distraction from like, life in general, so every time I felt like crying I added to the fic and somehow it sort of finished itself. Also, I could not be bothered to edit but I'm told it's still readable and that's good enough for me. I love you! Enjoy!
Relationships: Chaghan Suren/Altan Trengsin, Fang Runin/Sring Venka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	I Can't...(stop you putting roots in my dreamland)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok when I wrote this I wasn't initially intending it to be TPW I was just trying to get it out of my system but then I realized that it fit some of the characters so I reworked it a little. However, some parts might be out of character and I apologize for that. Also, I know fuck all about physics so if that bit is wrong just...go with it. Anyway, have fun!

It was Chaghan’s favorite time of year. The sun rose well after he started his day and set long before it finished. He loved the brief period of limbo as he walked to class in the dark, the buildings around him solemn and gray, the way the silence of the morning bristled with comfortable anticipation. The trees lining his street shed their brittle auburn leaves in droves which collected in the gutters and in the cracks of the sidewalk. They looked like fragile bits of lace as they decomposed. The world was still, the world was asleep, and that meant there was no one to hide from. Chaghan thought that if he lived forever on that empty street he might finally learn how to breathe.

When the sun inevitably rose it found Chaghan struggling to form sentences on a bench in the park. The paper he was attempting to write was due that evening and the only reason he hadn’t already finished was because of Altan. Altan had swept into his room at the start of the weekend with promises of adventure and intoxication and Chaghan had never learned how to say no. He didn’t want to. So, it was his own fault that his nerves were still shot from the night before and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking with fervent, bubbling anxiety. Chaghan didn’t like this sensation. He wasn’t this person. He was responsible, he was careful, he never left anything till the last minute. What was he doing? Oh god, oh god, oh n-

“Chaghan!” Altan Trengsin slid onto the bench beside him grinning like he’d just pulled off a heist. Chaghan’s stomach settled. He felt himself inadvertently beginning to smile. “Wanna crash Kitay’s lecture again?” Altan’s excitement was brimming beneath his eyes and pooling in the nooks of his collarbones. Chaghan could feel the frenetic energy radiating off him in the way he leaned closer and pressed his fingers against the bench between them.

“He’s gonna kill us,” Chaghan protested. He tried to sound earnest but there was no point. Altan always saw straight through him.

“He won’t, he’ll appreciate the company,” Altan countered with another grin. He leaned back and studied Chaghan with his arm propped on the back of the bench and his head rested on his hand. Chaghan instinctively leaned forward and inch to balance out the newfound distance between them.

“Didn’t the lecture already start?” He asked.

“It’s a three hour lecture I doubt we’ve missed much,” Altan replied. Chaghan looked down at the unfinished essay on his screen. He could always work on it when they arrived at the lecture hall. The Wi-Fi would be better there too he rationalized. There he went again, cutting corners for Altan, sacrificing his own piece of mind without a second thought. It was worth it. It was worth it every time Altan’s face lit up, every time he showed some sign of life. Altan was finally rewriting the pages the world had torn out of him and Chaghan wasn’t about to fuck it all up by refusing him. He sighed. “Alright let’s go.” And with this surrender another brick was laid in his foundation. The world righted itself just a little.

\---

“Can anyone explain the relevance of Murphy’s Law in the context of the color of my shirt?” Professor Jiang crossed his arms and studied the lecture hall, a challenge glittering in his eyes. He was sitting on his desk rather than at it and his legs were dangling carelessly over the edge of the dark wood frame. He was the sort of teacher that was so full of life and passion that you couldn’t help but want to impress him with the correct answer. Chaghan thought that if he were the type to develop crushes on authority figures he could’ve fallen for Prof. Jiang. Kitay made a strangled sound beside him as Altan pinned his arms to his sides. The three of them were sitting in the second to last row of the auditorium so the struggle currently happening between the boys went thankfully unnoticed as a sea of other hopeful hands shot into the air.

“Altan! Let. Me. Go.” Kitay bit out between labored breaths. Altan laughed and dug his hands in harder.

“No. Your overachieving ass has already spoken three times this class. You must chill.”

Kitay rolled his eyes. “But I know the answer!”

Now Altan rolled his. “Trust me, everyone in here knows that you know the answer dumbass.” Kitay gave one last ditch attempt at freeing his arms but Altan was stronger and he had them trapped between his forearm and his chest. Kitay threw his weight backwards, mostly aiming to try and hurt Altan if he couldn’t escape, but he only succeeded in banging his own shin against the rim of the workbench.

“Can you both stop? I’m trying to finish my paper,” Chaghan complained with very little conviction. They both paused to look at him pityingly before returning to their wrestling match. Chaghan took the hint and returned to his laptop with a sigh. He stared at the single paragraph he’d managed to finish and counted three grammatical errors. Fuck that it could wait. He lowered the lid of his computer and tuned into the answer some excited student was giving to an unreadable Jiang.

“Murphy’s law essentially states that anything that can happen will happen. Therefore, if I were to say that it could have happened that your shirt was purple instead of blue there are several steps that would have had to change in the creation of that shirt that we can trace back to the root of your decision. The most obvious is when you chose this specific shirt this morning, or even further back to when you actually bought it in the first place. There were probably options, like, you could have chosen purple or blue. Every event in your past has molded you into the person that picked blue instead of purple, but somewhere out there is a universe where the events of your life thus far led you to pick purple, and of course there are just as many factors that went into those events as well. There are infinite timelines and infinite possibilities for a single life’s potential.” The girl giving the response had short, straight black hair and deep brown skin that looked like it was being illuminated from some hidden light source within her. Her voice hadn’t faltered once during her response and when she finished she sat back with a solemn look of satisfaction. Beside her was a fairer skinned girl wearing an oversized blazer and skirt that wasn’t visible from the right angle. She had impressively sharp and symmetrical eyeliner and blood red lipstick to match. Professor Jiang nodded along while he listened to the girl's response and then paused a moment before responding to ensure that he had the entire class’ attention.

“You are more or less correct. You leaned a little heavily on the multiverse theory for my liking but in essence you’ve captured the tangled web of Possibility,” Jiang began. A smug smile started to spread across the girl’s face and her fashionable companion rolled her eyes in an exaggerated display of disgust.  
“However,” Jiang continued, “your definition of Murphy’s Law is askew. In fact the words as Edward A. Murphy himself uttered them were, ‘if there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it.’ We can simplify this to ‘Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.’ Now what does this mean for our purple shirt?” The question was directed at the girl. She didn’t miss a beat.

“The purple shirt is the wrong choice then. But doesn’t that mean the choice we don’t take is always the ‘wrong’ choice by nature of the fact that we didn’t choose it?”  
Professor Jiang and this girl could have been the only two people in the room given the intense way they locked eyes.

“Well, if we started down the avenue of what is right versus wrong versus justifiable, we would be here all year. However, this is not a philosophy class so I will spare you the mental gymnastics. Simply understand that there is an alternative to every choice you make, and somewhere out there a version of you didn’t feel like they had to take this class, or break that girl’s heart, or give up writing songs in their free time. Don’t waste your time on regrets. Now let’s discuss the rockets Murphy was building when he made this existential distinction.” The class moved on to more physics related topics and Chaghan quickly lost interest. Instead, he turned his attention to the girl and her friend. 

The glowing girl who had stuck her neck out in front of the class was no longer paying attention to the lecture but facing her beautiful companion. Tentatively she reached out a hand and let it hover near her friend’s head. It seemed as though she was waiting for some sort of permission. The gaze of her accomplice softened, and she nodded gently. The girl took her cue and tucked a strand of hair behind the other girls’ ear. She let the tips of her fingers linger under her chin affectionately. So, the “friend” was not really a friend at all, she was something more. Part of Chaghan ached at the sight of their clearly marked boundaries and the ease at which they navigated them. They flowed together as natural as a stream meeting a river. Chaghan pulled his gaze away from the girls and cast a glance at Altan. Where are your boundaries? He wondered. How can I ask you for a map without driving you away? The two of them had never been natural. Altan was a river and Chaghan was a leaf caught in his current. Powerless and pliant, he never stood a chance. Suddenly Chaghan was feeling homesick. He missed his family tree. He missed Qara. Her love was unconditional. He didn’t have to worry that he’d wake up one morning in freefall because she wasn’t there to support him. He could tell her anything and he knew she wouldn’t run. Wouldn’t cast him aside because she didn’t want to deal with the complexity of life and the torture it sometimes wrought.

Looking at Altan now his eyes traced the thin, dark scar that curved from the top of his left eyebrow, along his hairline, and down to his jaw. Memories of the day he’d gotten it flooded back into Chaghan’s mind unwarranted.

\---

Altan was eleven and life hadn’t been this bright in a while. It was summer and the sun was beaming in the clear blue sky above him. There were pale yellow tulips leftover from the spring that shined like diamonds as the last of the dew burned off their petals. And there was the shock of blinding white hair sprouting from the head of the boy lying in the grass beside him. Chaghan carelessly tossed an arm over his eyes to shield them from the overbearing sunlight. His chest rose and fell in little uneven jolts as he caught his breath. They’d been racing around on the abandoned soccer field in the back of their middle school all afternoon. Altan was faster but Chaghan nimble. He always found a way to slip out of Altan’s grasp just before he caught him. Now they were collapsed on the grass and soaking up all the energy they could from the fair weather and the comfortable silence between them.

“Altan?” Chaghan’s voice came from beside him.

“Yeah?” Altan responded. He dropped his elbows, so he was fully lying on his back now.

“What do you think life will be like after high school? When we’re adults?”

“College probably.”

“But will we still be friends? Will we still live here?”

“I will be getting the fuck out of here if I have anything to say about it. I never want to come back here. And don’t be stupid we’ll always be friends. You can come with me!”

“Who says I want to come with you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Altan smirked playfully as Chaghan landed a weak punch against his stomach. He curled in on himself a little and his knees brushed Chaghan’s side. Altan thought about the future and where he saw himself. There would be no one to help him that was for sure. If he wanted to make something of his life he was going to have to do it himself. Chaghan flipped over onto his stomach and pushed himself up on his forearms.

“Have you ever thought about how easy it is to lie? Like I could walk up to a stranger and tell them my name is Nezha and they would believe me because who would lie about that?”

“Is this your way of telling me that your name is actually Nezha?”

“No idiot my name is Chaghan but think about it. If I moved to a new city where nobody knew me I could be an entirely new person.”

“But that would take so much work. You’d have to retrain your mannerisms and your instincts. Like, you’d have to stop yourself from flinching whenever I use the word ‘excrete.’”

Chaghan flinched.

“That word is so gross. Why do you ever even have reason to use it?”

“I specifically find reasons to use it when you’re around because I know you hate it,” Altan admitted.

“Dickhead,” Chaghan grumbled. “Anyways, it’s still weird to think about. Everyone I know could be lying to me at any given moment and I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“That’s because you have the survival instincts of a rock.”

“Rocks are like...the best at survival. Try to break a rock right now, you can’t.”

“Whatever. Also, you can lie to other people but not to yourself. Not really. You can try, but at the end of the day you’ll still remember the reason you were trying to lie to yourself in the first place,” Altan reasoned. Chaghan looked affronted.

“Since when do you actually have a brain up there?” He reached up with two slim fingers and tapped Altan’s forehead. His skin was cold where it met Altan’s and Altan had to stop himself from shivering. His nerves were scattering like ants around the spot where Chaghan’s fingers touched his head and suddenly Altan was hyper aware of how close his friend was. He panicked.

“Hey!” Chaghan shouted as Altan’s brain short circuited and let him tackle Chaghan to the ground. He held himself up on all fours with Chaghan trapped beneath him and realized that he hadn’t thought this far in advance. Luckily Chaghan had a mind of his own. He brought his knee up and shoved it into Altan’s stomach. The air left Altan’s lungs for a split second and it was enough for Chaghan to wriggle free of his grasp. Chaghan took off running across the field and headed for the abandoned goal posts. Altan leapt up from where he lay winded and raced after him. He didn’t notice until it was too late that another person had arrived. Chaghan was laughing wildly now as he ran and because he cast one carefree and elated glance back at Altan he ran headlong into the torso of a psychopath. Altan abruptly stopped running and wiped the stupid grin off his face.

“Vaisra,” he whispered under his breath. Altan’s older brother Vaisra was a creature plucked straight out of a nightmare. As far as Altan could tell he was incapable of understanding an emotion besides pain and therefore made it his mission to cause as much of it as possible. When Altan’s mother died a year ago Vaisra was already twenty-two which meant he became Altan’s legal guardian until he came of age. Vaisra also obtained sole control over their already slim inheritance and chose to spend it on a new, obnoxiously expensive, car every time he managed to find a new and creative way to total the last one. Vaisra had vicious, near-black eyes like a hawk and even sharper talons. He was athletic and stronger than Altan which he made a point of demonstrating now and again. He never went anywhere alone unless it was just him and Altan at home. At this point there was no threat of Altan finding it in himself to defy his brother, that part of him was buried under the rubble of his grief for his mother and his lack of anywhere else to go. His brother could and would find him.

Currently Vaisra was accompanied by two other men that looked about his age. Altan vaguely recognized one of them as formerly attending the local high school. Vaisra looked curiously down at Chaghan where he stood frozen in his tracks. His big eyes were wide and unblinking beneath a choppy layer of bright white hair. He’d let his twin Qara take a pair of scissors to his bangs the other day and now his hair was extra unruly. Vaisra crouched down to bring his eyes level with Chaghan’s.

“So, you’re my brother’s shadow,” Vaisra deduced out loud, “Tell me, what do you see in him?” A cruel sneer curled onto his lips. Chaghan’s eyebrows cinched with worry.

“I- I, um,” his voice was unsteady and climbing in pitch. Altan knew he was afraid of giving the wrong answer. Altan was familiar with that sort of fear but Chaghan didn’t know that there was no right answer, he would lose either way. Life was only fair in fairytales.

“He’s my best friend,” Chaghan settled on firmly. Altan felt something in him wilt. Vaisra smiled in earnest, pleased at uncovering a new weakness to exploit.

“What the fuck?” Altan blurted suddenly. Vaisra’s gaze snapped to him with startling intensity but Altan was looking at Chaghan. “You’re not my friend,” Altan snapped. Eyes full of as much venom as he could muster. Chaghan looked confused, “Wha-”

“You’re just some pathetic child that follows me around everywhere, you are not my friend,” Altan repeated. He scoffed and turned back to his brother. He prayed to every god he could think of that his deception had been enough. Vaisra stretched his lips wider now and all of his teeth were visible beneath a grotesque blood red smile.

“You must really care about this boy,” he taunted, “you wouldn’t protect him like this if you didn’t. Deep down you’re too selfish.” Vaisra shuddered animatedly like he’d just taken a swig of poison. When he opened his eyes they were violent. “YOU’RE JUST. A FUCKING. BURDEN'' he roared and Altan shrank back. He was faintly aware of Chaghan whimpering in his peripheral but he couldn’t take his eyes off the deranged expression on his brother’s face. Spittle landed on the bridge of Altan’s nose but he was too terrified to risk raising a hand to wipe it off. He began to sweat as his arms remained paralyzed at his sides.

Vaisra rounded on Chaghan. “I’m surprised Altan would keep you around,” Vaisra said brightly, his entire demeanor shifted into a sickly sort of sweetness. “He knows I don’t like it when he’s distracted. I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson about Altan.” Suddenly Vaisra clicked his tongue and his two accomplices surged forward and grabbed Altan’s lifeless arms. He didn’t even put up a fight as they pressed him into the ground. Vaisra reached into his pocket and withdrew a small switchblade. All of the blood left Chaghan’s face. “No!” He cried, “it’s all my fault I never leave Altan alone and he doesn’t even like me!” Chaghan cried desperately. It was pointless.  
Altan schooled his expression into something calm and reassuring in hopes of conveying to Chaghan that this was fine. He would be okay. Chaghan didn’t need to worry. Vaisra pressed the tip of the knife to Altan’s temple and dragged it down to his jaw in a jagged line. Blood seeped from the cut into Altan’s eyes and nose and stung his sensitive skin but he didn’t let his discomfort show. He had to be okay with this, it was the only way to survive. It was the only way to make sure Chaghan didn’t do something rash and get himself hurt. Satisfied with his handiwork Vaisra stood up. His companions let go of Altan who stayed down on the ground. “There’s your lesson about Altan,” Vaisra told Chaghan, “he may be worthless, but he’s mine,” Vaisra snarled. Without another word the monster finally sheathed his claws and ambled away to find some other innocent soul to gobble up.

Once they were gone Chaghan rushed to Altan’s side and dropped to his knees. Altan couldn’t bring himself to lift his head just yet so instead he focused on staring at the sky and the clouds lazily meandering across the wide blue expanse as though nothing evil had occurred under its watch. He sucked in deep breaths and let his eyelids flutter as he exhaled. He didn’t want to deal with this, he wanted to sleep, to slip away into a world of dreaming where Chaghan could exist without consequences because that was all he could think about. White hair, bright blue eyes that weren’t filled with tears but something else. Something closer to reassurance and stability and the promise that he was never going to disappear and leave Altan to drown in his memories.

Nimble fingers lightly touched his cheek. Altan shifted his gaze to Chaghan. His friend had torn a bit of cloth from the hem of his shirt and was neatly sopping up some of the blood that had spilled all over Altan’s face. Altan opened his mouth to protest but Chaghan shushed him.

“Nope. Shut up,” he admonished.

“I didn’t say anything yet!” Altan argued, brow furrowed in indignant confusion.

“You were going to say some bullshit like ‘I’m fine! I can do it myself.’” Chaghan accused.

“But I am fine, and I can do it myself,” Altan said matter-of-factly.

“But I can do it better,” Chaghan shot back, “and I want to. Why would you turn that down?” Altan didn’t have a response for that so he fell silent. He didn’t mind the tickling sensation that followed Chaghan’s fingers wherever they brushed his skin.

“You’re not a burden,” Chaghan whispered, “You could never be, not to me.” Maybe it was because Altan was so tired, or maybe it was because some repressed part of him believed Chaghan’s words, but whatever the case was he let Chaghan get away with it. He didn’t argue. He just lay still and let his best friend patch him back together.

\---

Chaghan looked at Altan now. There was a gleam in his eyes that had gone dark ever since that incident but was slowly peeking its head out from around the fixture of his misery. He was smiling and ruffling Kitay’s hair without a care in the world. There was no worry preoccupying his eyebrows. His lips were wet from laughing not from terrified habitual biting. His face was so beautiful like this and that was why Chaghan had to do everything in his power to preserve it. He couldn’t tell Altan that he was drowning and risk bringing his best friend down with him.

\---

The stars were out early that night and Chaghan could have sworn they had multiplied since the last time he stood out here and stared at them. Altan was sitting on the edge of their dorm building and dangling his feet over the edge (you know I had to do it). The roof was quiet at midnight, no one else was brave enough to remain outside in the brisk chill of autumn. Chaghan stood a few feet away from Altan and leaned against the stone barrier that bordered the perimeter of the terrace. Altan turned to look at him and the shitty fluorescence of the building’s lights made his eyes glow red for a split second.

“So, did you finish your essay?” Altan asked. It was unusual for him to ask about Chaghan’s schoolwork, so Chaghan paused in confusion before answering.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Chaghan stuttered out, “it’s not my best work but there’s nothing I can do about it now,” he finished quietly. Altan seemed to sense the disappointment in Chaghan’s tone so he steered the conversation in a more positive direction.

“Have you talked to Qara recently?” He tried hopefully. Chaghan desperately wished he could match his friend’s optimism but the truth hindered him.

“No, she’s been busy lately. It’s fine I have too.”

“Oh.”

“Have you heard from…?”

“No,” Altan cut him off abruptly, a dark look crossing his face. Chaghan nodded a little too fervently as though he could distract Altan from his fuck up if he wrung his hands fast enough.

“I’m sorry I was jus-”

“No,” Altan repeated more forcefully this time. Chaghan knew he should stop talking but he wanted to make sure they were okay.

“No Altan I-”

“Chaghan. Stop. I’m leaving.” Altan pushed off the roof’s edge and started toward the door without sparing his friend a glance.

“Altan don’t leave, I’m sorry let’s talk about the lecture today! You seemed interested in that.” Chaghan bordered on begging. It wasn’t beneath him; he’d surrendered his dignity when it came to Altan years ago. Altan stilled and cast a pitying look back at his friend who had all but sunk to his knees.

“Thank you, I- I know. But I promised Kitay I would meet him in the park tonight. There’s a new ice cream shop opening in town and we wanted to check it out,” he explained gently the way one might let down a petulant child. That was fine, Chaghan felt like one.

“I could come? If you want,” Chaghan threw out at the last moment, trying too hard to pretend the last two minutes hadn’t happened. It was pathetic, he knew. Altan did his best not to sigh.

“No, it’s fine. I think we’re okay.” He didn’t say it rudely, but the message was clear. He doesn’t want me there; he’s never not wanted me there. This is my fault, but I never meant to hurt him. Fuck how do I fix this? I can’t lose him. I love him. Of course, Chaghan couldn’t say any of this out loud, Altan could never know how much Chaghan loved him. How much Chaghan needed him to stay afloat. Altan believed that love would kill him, and it was the only thing keeping Chaghan alive. So instead, he would take what he could get, if that meant sinking to his knees the moment the door closed behind Altan and hyperventilating until he had to focus harder on gasping for air than the aching rejection that was tearing into his heart then so be it. Altan was worth it. As long as he didn’t slip up and let Altan see how far gone he truly was, he could manage. He could stitch his heart back together as many times as he needed to.

\---

Halloween was a disaster. Chaghan felt an imbalance in the atmosphere the moment he stepped out of his last class of the day, but he brushed it off because there were parties to attend and distractions to seek out after midnight. Chaghan arrived back at the dorms at six, he and Altan weren’t supposed to meet up with Kitay and his friends until nine. He was going as a vampire this year because it was easy. He already owned a closet full of black clothes and fake blood was easily procured. As he sorted through the contents of his closet his mind wandered into the past. Last year, when Chaghan and Altan lived apart, they’d gotten a couple joints from Altan’s roommate who was a dealer and found a tree to sit under in the park.

\---

“Why am I single Chaghan? What’s wrong with me?” Altan pouted uncharacteristically. Chaghan was too taken aback by his friends’ sudden vulnerability he couldn’t think of a clever response. So he told the truth.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Chaghan consoled. He managed to make it sound like pity instead of adoration. They were sitting on a bench under a streetlamp. It was a little chilly but neither of them noticed. Altan kept flicking his lighter and letting the flame burn for a few seconds before snuffing it again. Finally, he relit their joint and sucked the smoke into his lungs. He tapped ash off the end before handing it to Chaghan. Chaghan let himself appreciate the sharp line of Altan’s jaw as he tipped his head back and exhaled.

“Well what about you? What’s your excuse?” Altan asked indignantly. A small frown played across his lips. Chaghan relaxed at the sight of his friend’s expression, this overly serious face was the one Chaghan was comfortable with.

“I’m not looking,” he replied simply between hits. He passed the joint back to Altan.

“Not looking because why? Has someone already caught your eye Chaghan?” Altan prodded. Chaghan almost laughed out loud at the irony, instead he shook his head.

“No, nothing like that,” he said softly. The atmosphere was changing around them, softening somehow, adjusting to their worn edges. Chaghan thought this must be comfortable silence. He’d heard about it before, read it in books, caught it in the lyrics of songs, but he was finally experiencing firsthand what it meant to sit next to someone and feel peace. His mind could be as blank as he desired, Altan didn’t expect miracles from him, Altan was content with his silence and that made him all the more precious.

“Chaghan,” Altan whispered, “I can’t remember a lot of my childhood.”

Chaghan squinted at him in the darkness, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I remember Vaisra, not all the details but the important parts, I have this one vivid memory of those big storm drains kids at school would dare each other to climb in, I remember that time I was biking away from Vaisra and his friends and I thought surely he couldn’t catch me on my bike, but he ran so fast and he did and he grabbed my bike by the frame and threw it like it weighed nothing.” He paused and Chaghan was just about to open his mouth but then Altan looked up, sincerity dripping from his eyes.

“But there has to be more right?” Altan sounded a little bit like he was pleading. “There must be more, I went to school, I had friends, I had hobbies, I used to play pickup basketball in the park, but it’s all blurry. I can’t remember any specifics. The only parts I remember with any clarity are…” he trailed off and dropped his gaze to his hands. “There has to be more,” he repeated, “I have to be more than what I remember, otherwise I have no idea who I am.”

Chaghan was speechless. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say in the face of Altan’s torment because nothing felt like enough. This was a turning point and if Chaghan fucked it up there would be consequences. So instead, he let words fail him and actions take over. Chaghan slipped his hand into Altan’s. When Altan didn’t pull away he intertwined their fingers and squeezed softly. Altan’s head came to rest on Chaghan’s shoulder. Chaghan half expected his friend to complain about his bony shoulder blades like he usually did but instead Altan said “I remember you Chaghan, I remember you the most. You’re in all my memories.”

“I remember everything,” Chaghan responded, “and you are so much more than your memories. You are strong and earnest and intelligent and alive. You’re so alive Altan.”

There was a long pause where neither of them said anything. They let the low electric buzz of the streetlamp lull them into a trance and watched as fallen leaves lazily turned over in the breeze.

“I think I’m sad,” Altan murmured, “I think I have been for a long, long time.”

Chaghan nodded and he knew Altan could feel it against his chest. He thought maybe something in Altan was breaking, but perhaps this also meant he was one step closer to mending.

\---

The door to their suite flew open so ferociously that the metal handle slammed into the adjacent wall and left a chip in the paint.

“Altan!” Chaghan shouted as his friend stormed through the doorway. “Do not get us a fine for damaging school property.” Altan rolled his eyes and bypassed his comment as he strode into Chaghan’s room and threw himself on Chaghan’s bed. Chaghan paused his rummaging in the closet and waited for Altan to explain his spirited entrance. Ten seconds passed and there were no signs of life from the boy slumped on his mattress, so he shrugged and went back to picking out a potential costume. Once he settled on a black sweater that swooped just below his collarbones and black jeans to match, he set off in search of his phone. Predictably he’d thrown it on his bed when he walked in the room but now Altan was in the way.

“Altan,” Chaghan prodded. He received no response. “Altan,” he tried again, still nothing. Finally, Chaghan marched over and took a closer look. “No way,” he whispered under his breath. Altan was fast asleep. His breathing was slow and even, and he had one hand pressed flat between his cheek and the mattress. Chaghan memorized the peaceful expression on Altan’s face and tried to suppress the fondness that was crawling up his throat and threatening his lips with a smile. The fact that Altan felt safe enough to fall asleep around him, in his bed no less, was an honor he would never in a million years deserve. Chaghan reached around his sleeping form and gently tugged his phone out from where it was trapped under Altan’s side. He made a mental note to ask him what had caused his dramatic entrance earlier but for now slipped out of the room and let him sleep.

Two hours later Chaghan managed to wash the concerningly large pile of dishes in their sink, sweep the common room, break down all the cardboard boxes that lay in a pile next to the front door, and change his outfit twice (he ended up back in the first one he picked out). Altan was still fast asleep on Chaghan’s bed but he only had half an hour left to get ready. Knowing him it would take Altan ten minutes to throw on something makeshift and call it a day. Chaghan discovered over the years that the best way to wake Altan up was gently. No loud noises, no jostling, but a light hand on his arm and a commanding tone worked just fine. Altan denied this when he was awake, “Just throw something at me and I’ll wake up,” he suggested freely, but Chaghan knew the split second of confusion in his eyes when he opened them too intimately to take Altan at his word. “Altan,” he called out from the doorway. When he got no response, he shifted closer and softly pushed Altan’s shoulder. “Altan,” he said a little louder. Altan’s eyes blinked open. He glanced around, disoriented, before his gaze settled on the unfamiliar comforter beneath him and understanding dawned on his face. He gracefully swung his legs around and dangled them off the bed, a hand pressed to his forehead.

“Shit,” he muttered, “How long was I out?” He asked, looking up at Chaghan through clouded eyes.

“You’ve got half an hour before we’re supposed to meet Kitay,” Chaghan informed him, hands on his hips.

“Oh, that’s plenty of time,” Altan reassured. His face relaxed into a smile, “Is that what you’re wearing?” He asked innocently.

“Uh huh,” Chaghan responded firmly. When Altan just stared at him in response Chaghan narrowed his eyes, “I have fangs and fake blood,” he assured him, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Altan exaggerated the judgmental tilt of his head. “What are you wearing that’s so great?” Chaghan retorted indignantly.

Now Altan smiled mischievously. “Wings,” he said through the gleeful curves of his lips, “I’m going to be an angel.”

Chaghan choked back a laugh, “That’s an oxymoron.”

“Hey, I’m angelic, every single teacher I’ve ever had has called me a blessing to have in the classroom,” Altan protested.

“That’s because you’re a kiss-ass,” Chaghan shot back.

“What? I simply respect authority figures and appreciate their dedication to providing me with a comprehensive liberal arts education.”

“Which is bullshit because you never study and still somehow get the best grades,” Chaghan continued, ignoring Altan’s defense.

“What about Daji? She hated me,” Altan suggested.

“That’s because you killed her frog.”

“I was six, how was I supposed to know that it could reach the top of the cage?”

“It’s a fucking frog Altan it jumped.”

“Technically we don’t know that it died. That frog is probably living happily in a creek somewhere.”

“The point still stands, you are no angel,” Chaghan reiterated. Although he wasn’t sure why he was fighting this battle so hard, he didn’t even believe the words leaving his mouth. If anyone on Earth was an angel, it was definitely Altan.

“Whatever,” Altan dismissed. He hopped off the bed and stalked out of the room. Chaghan grabbed the bottle of fake blood off his desk and followed. Altan’s room shared a wall with the bathroom so he could position himself in front of the mirror and see what Altan was doing at the same time. Chaghan focused on painting two trails of blood dripping from each corner of his mouth. He’d just managed to make each side symmetrical Altan sidled his way into the bathroom.

“I need the mirror,” he announced. Chaghan threw him a disgruntled glance.

“I’m using it right now,” he responded and motioned an arm between himself and the mirror to indicate the plainly obvious.

“I know but I only have ten minutes and I’m not sure if this is going to work,” Altan stated as though that somehow changed things.

“But I’m not done,” Chaghan replied and returned to the task at hand.

“We’ll share,” Altan decided and forced his way into the tight space, shoulder to shoulder with Chaghan. In his hand was a little pot of translucent gel from what Chaghan could see. A closer look revealed little flecks of silver, holographic glitter mixed in.

“What is that?” Chaghan asked curiously. Altan blinked.

“It’s something Kitay’s friend Venka lent me. I think it goes on my eyes.” Altan dipped an aggressive finger into the gel and peered at it like a puzzle he was having trouble solving.

“I think I’ve seen Qara use that stuff. Here, let me do it, I have smaller hands,” Chaghan said. Altan paused at the offer and then handed the makeup to him with an expression that almost looked fond. Chaghan dipped a slim finger into the glitter and then braced two fingers on Altan’s temple while he swiped his index finger over his eyelid. The shimmery substance looked like dew where it sparkled against Altan’s eyes. Chaghan spread some more over Altan’s cheekbone and held his breath as he watched him glow. This is how you should always look, he thought to himself, Divine. Chaghan was suddenly aware of the silence surrounding them and Altan’s exhales rushing past his ear. Quickly Chaghan snapped himself out of his trance before he could be caught staring. He finished Altan’s other eye and then released him to finish putting on the rest of his costume. The second Altan stepped out of sight Chaghan let himself collapse forward, both hands braced on the ceramic rim of the bathroom sink. He studied his face in the mirror, his eyes were wide, his hair was unruly, there was fake blood dripping from his mouth, but he looked alive. He felt alive. 

Two minutes later Altan stepped out of his room wearing all white and a pair of felt wings stretching out from his back. Chaghan physically had to cut off his esophagus to stop the adoration building in his stomach from pouring out of his mouth. Altan looked ethereal. The careless tousle of his hair, the strength in his shoulders, the way the glitter looked like tears when it soaked up the fluorescence bearing down from above him. He, of course, realized none of this and narrowed his eyes at Chaghan who stood frozen in the bathroom doorway. “What the fuck are you doing? Let’s go,” Altan commanded. Chaghan scowled and popped in his plastic fangs. The evening was starting.

Kitay’s friend Venka turned out to be the girlfriend of the girl who answered a question in the physics lecture he and Altan crashed a week prior.

“Wait so what are you supposed to be again?” Altan asked. The group was walking out of their first party of the night and headed to a second at some senior’s place that Venka knew. Venka was wearing a snug fitting suit with no blouse underneath, just a lacy bralette and her signature red lip and severe eyeliner.

“I’m a CEO,” Venka replied matter-of-factly. Rin, her girlfriend, scoffed, “Venka you dress like that every day.”

“Yeah, and you like every day so what’s the problem?” Venka snapped. Rin conceded with a shrug, “Fair point.” She looked ahead to where Kitay and Chaghan were leading the group.

“Hey Kitay!” Rin shouted even though he was only four feet away from her.

“Yeah?” he yelled back.

“What are you tonight?

“I’m a firefighter.”

“And why are you a fire fighter?”

“Uhhh.”

“I said why are you a fire fighter?”

“Because that last time we went to a party you tried to roast marshmallows with a blowtorch and set the curtains on fire?”

“No! You're supposed to say it's because we're so hot." They were both dressed as firefighters and they had done this routine at least six times in the last hour. Chaghan exhaled a half-hearted chuckle and tilted his head back to watch the tree branches hanging above him pass by. The night was the right amount of chilly to foster an anxious sort of excitement in everyone’s blood. It was almost midnight but there was more fun to be had. They were crammed onto a thin sidewalk next to the park and linking arms to keep from veering into the street. Eventually their destination ebbed into view. It was a modern looking house with a square shape and a flat roof. The sides were smooth and bright white, but ivy was crawling down from what looked like a garden on the top floor. The grounds around it were filled with rose bushes and wrought iron and in the open doorway college students of all ages were stumbling in and out in a steady stream. The group came to a halt in a line and stared up at the building, a grin on every face.

“Let’s go,” Rin urged and pushed her way inside. Quickly Chaghan lost sight of his friends and found himself in a laundry room. There was a group of girls sitting on top of the washer and dryer and passing around a bottle of tequila they’d swiped from somewhere out in the fray. Chaghan stumbled in on accident and froze when he found six pairs of eyes staring curiously at his arrival. They laughed for a moment and then found him a plastic cup. A moment later Chaghan wandered back out into the main hall with a mouthful of tequila and orange juice. He saw someone he vaguely recognized from a class last semester pressed against the far wall, so he began to make his way over. There were multicolored lights flashing from a projector and loud music blared through speakers in the ceiling. A crowd had formed a dance floor in the center of the room and Chaghan tried to slip through the masses with his cup held high over his head. That was precious cargo.

“Hey! Chaghan,” the boy Chaghan was walking towards shouted over the noise.

“Hey,” Chaghan greeted as he settled in against the wall, “it’s Suni right?” The boy nodded. “Yeah,” he lifted a bottle of rosé in his right hand, “want some?”

“Sure,” Chaghan shrugged and poured a generous amount into the concoction already in his cup, “thanks.”

“So, have you thought about classes for next semester?” Suni asked.

“Nah, not yet. I still don’t know what I want to do but I have a bunch of Gen-Ed classes I haven’t done yet, so I figure I’ll knock those out,” Chaghan responded.  
“That’s cool. I’m thinking about minoring in something, art history maybe. I’ll finish up my major requirements next semester so…” he trailed off. Chaghan took a large swallow of his drink and savored the way it went straight to his head. At least one of them knew what they wanted to do with their life.

“Hey, you’re friends with Altan right?” Suni asked cautiously. Quickly Chaghan snapped to attention.

“Yeah, why?” He asked intently.

“I just wanted to know if he’s alright, he’s in my philosophy class and he kind of got into it with our professor today. He seemed pretty upset.” All the noise in the room faded out of Chaghan’s ears.

“What happened?” He pressed.

“Oh, well, we were talking about moral responsibility and all that, and our professor was saying that sometimes abusive people can’t entirely bear the blame for their actions because of the situation they’re in. Whether they were cast out by society, hurt by someone, or something else like that in their formative years.”

“What? That’s bullshit,” Chaghan spit out angrily.

“Altan thought so too and he told our professor as much, I thought he was pretty respectful about it honestly, but Prof. wasn’t having it. He kept going on and on about learned behavior and systemic failure and how society shapes individuals against their will, which even if he had a point he should have assessed that he was upsetting Altan. And Altan sort of lost it. He said to tell that to people with scars, who have nightmares every night, who can’t trust anyone, even the people they want to trust, and see if they care about ‘moral responsibility.’ To see if it ‘helps them fucking sleep at night.’” Suni sighed, “So anyways we all felt pretty awful about it.” Chaghan was silent. Then he downed the rest of his drink in three quick gulps.

“I need to find him.” Was all he said before he pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs. His best bet for finding Altan was the roof. Altan wouldn’t feel trapped up there, he could feel the night air blowing through him. Sure enough Chaghan pushed open the heavy metal door leading to the rooftop garden and there Altan was, staring out over the edge. There were three or four groups of people scattered around the garden drinking and talking, but Altan stood alone. Chaghan came up beside him.

“Hey,” he announced his arrival softly. Altan jumped and whipped his head around to face him. He pressed a hand to his chest. “Oh, Chaghan, you scared the shit out of me, what the fuck,” he chuckled. The alcohol in his system didn’t let him waste any time.

“Are you okay?” He asked. He tried to sound innocent but it landed somewhere between terrified and worried.

“Yeah why,” Altan responded slowly.

“I heard about what happened in class today,” Chaghan explained cautiously. Altan sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Look! Another teacher whose ass I’m not kissing,” he joked weakly.

“Uh huh,” Chaghan prodded, “so are you okay?” Altan turned to glare at him.

“Why are you so desperate to talk about this? You know I don’t want to.”  
Chaghan shrank back. “No I ju-”

“You just what? Need a hobby? I agree.”

“Altan I-”

“No Chaghan, listen to me. I do not want to have this discussion; I will never want to have this discussion. You don’t get a say and I’m not sorry about that. Do you know why? Because it hurts, it’s painful. Is that what you want to see? You want me to be vulnerable so you can take care of me and feel adequate for once? I won’t, I can’t. I can’t go back there anymore. And you know what’s crazy? I don’t think I have to; I think I’m far enough out from all the bullshit that I can confidently say the skeletons in my closet are just bones. They can’t hurt me anymore, they’re locked in. I managed to leave everything behind in that stupid fucking town and I came here and I bought all this new stuff and I made all these new friends and the only thing that reminds me of home is you.”

He was shouting now and everyone on the roof had gone silent somewhere in the middle of his speech. Chaghan couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t find the right words and his head was spinning. The silence was choking him, all the eyes on him were tearing him apart.

“Then why did you move in with me? Why didn’t you cut me off our first year? Why am I still listed as your emergency contact? It could be Kitay, there’s nothing stopping you. And don’t say it’s pity, you know it fucking isn’t. You’re an adult, you make your own choices, I didn’t strongarm you into anything.”

“Chaghan I’m not cruel, we’re friends it’s not like-”

“Not like what? You said it yourself, I’m the only thing you brought from home. The only “personal item” you brought with you. Fuck you, fuck you for that. I’m not your possession. I don’t exist for you Altan. The reason you keep me around is because I was there for you. I was there for you when you got hurt, I helped you stitch yourself back together, I covered for you when you had to miss class, I stood by you when your mother died. And I would do it all again because I love you. I swear to god I love you. But don’t act like I’m a band-aid in your pocket that you can use once and then throw away when your cut heals. I’m not disposable.”

“I never said you were disposable.”

“You implied it.”

“You’re fucking projecting your shit on me, you’re so dramatic holy shit.”

“I’m dramatic? You fucking act like the world revolves around you. That you can do whatever you want and it’s everybody else’s fault for caring about you. You know what, take some fucking responsibility. You know that I love you and you know what I would do for you, but you act like you don’t believe it’s possible. You never deal with your shit and you ice me out and then you’re confused when that hurts me. Of course, it fucking hurts me when my best friend stops talking to me!”

“But you never stop! You won’t accept how I’ve chosen to cope! I don’t have to be your friend Chaghan. I’m not obligated to give a fuck how my lifestyle affects yours. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You’re right. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t owe me an explanation, but after everything we’ve been through you’d be a shitty fucking person to not acknowledge that maybe I deserve one.”

“Fuck you Chaghan.” Altan paused, his jaw worked back and forth. Then his eyes lit up with the discovery of a new angle of attack. “Oh, and you love me? You think you can toss that word around like it’s nothing and what, you thought I’d swoon?”

“That’s not what’s important here and you know it.”

“But I want to know. Explain it to me. You love me.”

“Well it’s not that simple because we’re friends and I’m not sure if- I mean we’ve talked about- please don’t make me do this.”

“Oh so it is more than friendship then.”

“Altan.”

“No. We’re having it out so we’re having it all out.”

“Look, I told you I loved you, it’s not my fault you don’t know what that means.”

“And you do?”

Chaghan thought about the way he loved Altan. The way he obsessed and worried and let himself go in favor of Altan. The way he didn’t care about any consequences so long as Altan wanted him around. The way he was always anxious about his grades and his social life and his health because he couldn’t compromise for himself when it came to Altan. Surely love wasn’t supposed to cost this much. And surely Chaghan wasn’t supposed to be so willing to pay for it.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Altan snarled. He stepped back from the edge of the roof and paused to glance around at all the silent, concerned faces trained on him. Chaghan watched fear slice through the flesh of his irises and blind him. He feels trapped again, Chaghan realized hopelessly. There was nothing he could do this time. He was the source of the fear this time. The last bit of the night Chaghan remembered was watching Altan tear off his costume wings and leave them broken in the doorway.

\---

Sunlight was just beginning to filter through the thin linen curtains on the opposite wall and Chaghan had a blistering headache. He couldn’t remember why he thought it was a good idea to sleep facing the window. Then he remembered the day he and Altan moved in together.

“Hey Suren,” Altan shouted from across their 600 square foot unit. There were two bedrooms that shared a common room just wide enough to fit two worn rocking chairs and a bathroom. Chaghan always forgot that the chairs tipped when he leaned back, and he never failed to accidentally lose his balance and let out a surprised yelp. Altan laughed every time it happened like a joke that would never get old. For Chaghan it was worth the fright to hear Altan’s uninhibited cackling with his head thrown back and his guard all the way down.

“What?” Chaghan shouted back. He was in the middle of trying and failing to force his mattress into a plastic mattress cover. He let out a sharp gasp of pain as his fingers slipped on the metal zipper of the mattress cover and its hard edge reopened a cut on his ring finger.

“Come here,” Altan yelled back. Chaghan sighed and let the mattress drop back onto his rickety metal bedframe. The odds were high he would give in and make Altan do it for him.

“What do you want?” He grumbled half-heartedly as he made his way over to Altan’s room. Chaghan leaned against the doorway and searched for signs of whatever issue Altan summoned him to resolve. Altan looked up from where he was rooting around in his duffel bag, mouth open and ready to explain himself but the words never came. They died in his throat when his eyes landed on the bead of blood that was blooming on Chaghan’s pale finger.

“You’re bleeding,” Altan informed him. There was a thread of concern weaving uncertainly through his words. Chaghan furrowed his brow in confusion and then glanced down at his hands. “Oh,” he noted softly. Altan watched as Chaghan lifted his finger to his lips and gently staunched the bleeding with his tongue. Blood began to well in the cut again as soon as the broken skin left his mouth and so Chaghan repeated the motion once more. Altan went still, transfixed. There was nothing unusual about the scene in front of him except the way Altan appreciated the dainty movements of Chaghan’s fingers and the calm, unconcerned look on his face. Chaghan looked up.

“Did you bring band-aids by any chance?” He asked, completely unaware of the way Altan had stopped breathing. Altan blinked a few times to bring himself back to reality.

“Uh, no I don’t think so. Sorry,” he stammered out as evenly as possible. The sight of blood still made Altan uneasy, but he suspected that wasn’t the only reason he felt dizzy. He didn’t have time for this. Whatever was making him react this way to Chaghan needed to stop if he was going to have any hope at surviving this year as his roommate.

“It’s fine,” Chaghan reassured him, “What did you need?” Chaghan was beginning to think Altan had no legitimate reason for calling him into his room but was instead trying to fuck with him. His suspicions were confirmed when Altan blinked the far off look out of his eyes and responded, “No idea. I forgot.”  
Chaghan sighed at the sight of the sheepish grin on his friend’s face. He had forgotten what a carefree Altan looked like, he would have endured any number of frustrations in order to keep him that way.

“Well, if you have nothing left to do in here, come help me with my mattress cover,” he ordered. Altan rolled his eyes, “Every year we do this Chaghan, every single year.”

“We’ve never lived together!”

“That’s never stopped you from dragging me to your dorm and forcing me to help you.”

“Those first-year dorms were painful, bless whatever stars aligned that got us our own rooms this year.”

Altan scoffed, “I’m a great roommate I’ll have you know.”

Chaghan patted his shoulder placatingly, “I’m sure you are.” It was true, Altan always kept his room astonishingly tidy, but the idea of having to fall asleep every night, in heavy silence, three feet away from the only person Chaghan actively wanted to like him, sounded like an intimate sort of hell.

Chaghan was wrong, he thought now as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. The bite of a brisk morning chill shocked his skin as he slid his legs out from under his blankets. His feet hit the floor and he padded into the kitchen in search of the kettle. He began rummaging in the cupboards for a spare teabag and he tried not to look at Altan’s door. It was shut and there was light seeping out from under it, Altan was definitely awake and could probably hear him making noise but Chaghan couldn’t imagine he felt half as tense about their lack of communication as Chaghan did. He had no idea when Altan got home last night nor if he was still upset with him however opening his door and asking was the last thing he wanted to do. It should have been simple, a month ago he would have kicked Altan’s door in and flopped onto his bed. He would have teased Altan about the late hours he kept and tried to pry open his best friend’s brain and sort through all his secrets. Now though, such an intrusion would have seemed outrageous, there was no humor left in their relationship. How they had spiraled out of each other’s orbit so quickly was a mystery to Chaghan, but he supposed it was his fault. He was certainly the one suffering the consequences. It had been a week since their fight and they both mutually decided not to address it. Altan’s method of avoiding the subject was avoiding Chaghan entirely and acting far too proper and polite whenever they were forced to interact.

Chaghan waited for his kettle in tense silence. He could feel Altan’s presence beyond the closed door like a weight on his chest. He had been wrong before, this gaping void between them was infinitely worse than sharing a room, at least then Chaghan could’ve been certain that Altan knew he existed at all. The rest of the morning passed rather uneventfully. Chaghan paced around their living room for twenty minutes debating whether to knock on Altan’s door, which he ultimately decided against, and worrying. Once it became clear that Altan would not be emerging any time soon Chaghan left for the library. If he couldn’t feel settled in his personal life he might as well make sure his academic one was still intact. Fall was beginning to give way to winter and strong winds during the night had sped up the process of the great oaks in the center of campus losing their leaves. Pools of red and orange lay at the base of thick trunks and barren branches. The trees reminded Chaghan of the ones he and Altan used to climb as children. They were sturdy and stern and perfect for lounging at the end of the day. He managed to finish most of his assignments at the library but his satisfaction quickly dissipated when he returned to an empty dorm. The sun set at five thirty and Chaghan couldn’t bring himself to leave his room. He’d been lying on his bed for an hour with his shoes still on rereading the same passage of a book because it couldn’t find a foothold in his mind. Eventually Chaghan let the book slip from his hands and rested his head on his mattress. He should have been hungry by now, but the thought of moving was unappealing. He would rather stare into space with his headphones in and Tchaikovsky playing than face a world that was growing lonelier by the minute.

Three more days passed before Chaghan spoke to Altan. In those three days he had managed to stomach two granola bars, an incredible excess of tea, and that was all. He was willing to admit that perhaps the cause of his despondence was larger than Altan. He couldn’t scrounge up the motivation to pay attention in class let alone write any compelling papers. He spent more time in the same hundred square feet of his room than anywhere else. He felt himself drifting out to sea and he was perfectly content to let it happen. Days blurred and he couldn’t remember how he used to spend them. Surely, he had friends. Or maybe that was an illusion. Surely, he had career goals. Suddenly they seemed irrelevant. Surely, he had hobbies. Or maybe he didn’t, maybe he never had, maybe he didn’t actually know who he was. He supposed he’d never had to know, there were always other people around to give him a purpose and keep him occupied. He was extremely well versed in other people’s happiness, but he drew a blank in the face of his own. For the life of him he could not remember the fucking point. When he finally spoke to Altan it was an accident, at least on his part. He had been curled up in their living room reading a book and waiting for water to boil. There was a mug dangling precariously from his fingertips. The kettle started to whistle and as he got up to fetch it a wave of dizziness washed over him. Little bursts of light winked in and out of his vision and he doubled over, hands pressed to his knees to keep from falling. The ceramic mug clattered against the faux wood floor and miraculously didn’t break. The sound was enough to draw Altan’s attention. Chaghan distantly heard the bedroom door open but he was struggling to keep conscious. Altan emerged from his room rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Quickly Chaghan straightened and snatched the mug from where it had fallen. Altan finally looked up.

“What the fuck was that?” He inquired but there was no intensity behind his words. Chaghan schooled his expression into something passably cheerful and replied.

“Nothing! I just knocked my mug over, don’t worry.” Altan nodded and gave no indication he suspected anything was awry. Without another word he filled a glass with water in the sink and then disappeared back into his room. Chaghan let out a sigh. He left the hot water and the mug forgotten on the counter and slipped back into his room. Safe on the other side of his door he let the façade drop and his expression finally reflected his unhappiness. It wasn’t Altan’s fault Chaghan was a wreck, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. He pressed his fingers to his lips to keep any stray noise from escaping and he let himself cry. Altan couldn’t hear. Altan shouldn’t have to put up with Chaghan’s bullshit. Chaghan was the one that had become dependent and Chaghan was the one that needed to fix it. To find a way to live without, instead of telling Altan everything like he so desperately wanted to. Because I love him. Because I miss him. The solution to Chaghan’s plight arrived the next day.

“Chaghan, where are you?” A worried female voice floated through the front door. Chaghan’s head snapped up from where he’d buried it in his pillows. He was in between sleep and consciousness. His bedroom door slowly swung open. “Chaghan?” The voice came again. He would have recognized it anywhere. “Qara,” he breathed out incredulously. With speed he hadn’t known he possessed Chaghan swept his legs off his bed and fell forward into his sister’s arms. She let out a surprised squeak at the sudden embrace but quickly wrapped her arms around his back and tucked her chin over his shoulder. There was desperation in the way Chaghan linked his arms around his sister like she might disappear if he let go, because he needed her to stay. He needed her so badly. For the first time in weeks the despair was draining from his lungs. She was his anchor.

“Chaghan,” she whispered, “what’s going on?” By now they had sunk to the floor and were huddled in an awkward heap of limbs and tears. Chaghan pulled back and crossed his legs. Qara mimicked the motion and they sat with their knees pressed together, hands in their laps. Chaghan let out a sigh. “It’s Altan. We fought,” he summarized simply. Qara rolled her eyes, “Yeah I figured that much out thank you. You look like shit by the way.” Chaghan glared at her, “How did you know?” Now Qara’s expression switched to pity.

“Chaghan, who do you think called me to come drag you off the brink of death?”

“What?”

“Altan. He told me that you needed me, which clearly he was right, and he said he couldn’t be there for you. So here I am, your savior.”

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“There’s no way Altan called you.”

“Do you want to see my call history? Or the three voicemails he left in a panic?”

“Yeah, actually I do.”

“Well too bad, my phone is dead and I have no time for your dramatics.”

“You literally came here solely to deal with my dramatics.”

“No, I came here to make sure you were okay. Now tell me everything.”

“No.”

“Chaghan.”

“You don’t understand how bad it is.”

“Chaghan.”

“Read this.” He reached up to where he kept his diary tucked between his bed frame and his mattress and yanked the slim, leatherbound notebook free. Qara took it from his hand and opened to the first page. “No not there,” Chaghan scowled. He pulled the diary back into his lap and flipped to the most recent entry. “Wait, I can’t let you read this,” he realized aloud. Qara smirked.

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing."

“That ship has sailed dear brother.”

“No.”

“Give it here!”

“Fuck off.” Qara assessed that she wasn’t going to win her brother over, so she grabbed both ends of the diary and yanked it out of his hands. Chaghan let out an indignant huff but didn’t try to stop her as she began to read.

"I think missing someone is the most visceral emotion a person can feel. I think missing Altan might kill me. Because he’s right there. His number is in my phone and he’s sitting in the other room, but he doesn’t want to talk to me, doesn’t want to know me, doesn’t want me to know him. And to some extent I don’t want him to know me either. Imagine Altan in my brain, ha. He would get rid of me forever if he knew how much I love him. How much I want to know everything about him so I can tell him I don’t care. That I’m not going to run, that all he ever has to do is ask and I’ll deliver. That I could not give less of a fuck about anything else. I used to have a spine. I think I lost it somewhere."

Qara stopped. “Oh Chaghan,” she whispered. A small, sad smile flickered over her lips before her next words blew it out. “You’re in love with him.” Chaghan was silent for a moment. The shimmer in his eyes looked like cracks spreading through glass a breath before shattering. “I know,” he whispered back. “This is the most angsty bullshit I’ve ever read in my life, you Chaghan Suren, are a disaster,” Qara continued, still whispering. The glass broke. Chaghan laughed. He laughed so hard tears started streaming down his face. His stomach clenched and unclenched. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t breathe. His lungs were seizing with wave after wave of hysterical, unmitigated, laughter. Because when Qara judged his situation objectively, when she glossed over the fact that he was hopelessly in love with Altan like it was minor detail on a warning label no one would ever read, he felt a clarity that he hadn’t been able to reach in months. He’d been trapped in an endless feedback loop of obsession with no outlet and now he was back in perspective, even if it was only for a brief moment. Qara was smiling across from him.

“So, what are we going to do now?” She asked.

“Suffer in silence? Accept a life of pain and misery?”

“No Chaghan, you cannot rely on one person this much, it’s dangerous.”

“So?”

“So it’s not fair! For either of you. He shouldn’t be responsible for your happiness, and you shouldn’t let your emotional state be dictated by the state of your relationship.”

“But I have nothing else.”

“Yes, you do. You are a sociology major, you want to go to law school, you have a frighteningly high GPA.”

“Oh, and did I tell you that one of my professors said I could intern at the women’s shelter in the city next semester?”

“See!”

“But I love him, I don’t know how to live without him, and it’s worth the pain. It’s so worth it.”

“Chaghan, you have two options, one: tell him and see what happens, if he rejects you, fine, that leads you to option two: move on. Throw yourself into something else, let the passage of time untangle you from him.”

“There’s no option where we can be friends?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? For the long run?”

“I don’t care.”

“See that’s a problem. Do you not see how that’s a problem?”

“No.”

“Good god, I’m getting you out of here.”

“No!”

“We’re just going to get ice cream my dear, don’t worry, your separation anxiety won’t even have time to kick in.”

Spending the day with Qara was peaceful. They talked about their lives and enjoyed the quiet of the park. Qara was a pre-med student in the city. She was worried that her landlord was going to find out about her pet bird that she kept in secret. She was certain that her roommate was stealing her bobby pins. Chaghan remembered how to be normal with her, how to slide back from the edge of his seat and relax. He let her eat the rest of his cone, his hands were cold anyway from having to expose his fingers to the November chill. She’d insisted they get ice cream despite the frost on the ground and Chaghan wasn’t one to turn down free food. When Chaghan eventually arrived back at his dorm he felt settled and clear headed. Qara had given him enough hugs to keep him warm inside for the night and tomorrow was still the weekend. Chaghan was smiling to himself as he turned his key in the lock and stumbled through the front door only to find Altan sitting on the couch in their living room waiting for him.

“We need to talk.” Were the first words out of Altan’s mouth. “If that’s okay,” he followed up. Chaghan briefly wondered if he was imagining the nervousness in Altan’s eyes. He must have let his confusion show on his face because Altan dropped his gaze to the fidgeting hands in his lap.

“Okay,” Chaghan responded calmly, “Let’s talk.” Altan’s gaze snapped back up to meet his. He shifted on the couch to make more room for Chaghan to occupy the other end. Slowly, Chaghan made his way over and sank down onto the cushion as though he thought Altan would bolt if he made too sudden a movement. Altan looked disheveled now that Chaghan could see him up close. His eyes were framed with dark shadows and it was clear he hadn’t shaved this morning. His hair was tied back in what used to be a bun but so many rebellious strands had slipped free that it was more of an accidental half-up. Chaghan still thought he was breathtaking.

“I’m sorry,” Altan began. Chaghan’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry for everything. I miss you.” Of the thousands of possible first words Chaghan’s brain cycled through in the last ten seconds, none of them matched the ones that left Altan’s mouth.

“I’m sorry too,” Chaghan said softly, “and I miss you.” 

Altan’s lips quirked up.“Find your own apology, don’t just steal mine.”

“I thought we were being serious.”

“Sorry, yes.”

“No it’s fine I just- have some serious things to say.”

“Me too.”

“You first.”

Altan sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I felt awful. You were right the whole time, of course, and I think I always knew that. I think that’s why I was so upset. Because you shouldn’t have to take care of me, you shouldn’t have to spend so much time worrying about if today is a good day or a bad day. And I thought that if I shut you out I would be sparing you the trouble, but instead I hurt you and I never wanted that. I’ll never want that,” Altan finished quietly. Chaghan stared hard out the window behind Altan’s head and tried to piece together his next words before tears could start falling.

“Altan I want to be there for you. I always do. And I’m sorry for being overbearing because at the end of the day it’s not my place, it’s no one’s place but yours to map out your mental health. But if you need me, I’m here because I want to be. I’m an adult, I make my own decisions,” he announced a little too passionately to be convincing, but it dragged an amused smile out of Altan.

“I’ll never understand you.”

“Why?”

“Because this is insane. Who would sign up for this? It’s not normal.”

“I hate to break it to you Altan, but we’re not normal. Or maybe we are. That’s even scarier.”

“Is all love like this?” Altan wondered aloud. Chaghan froze. Every single thought running through his head came to a dead halt and then disintegrated into dust. He almost choked on it.

“What?” Chaghan asked. Altan looked down bashfully and then up through his long eyelashes to meet Chaghan’s eyes and hold them there.

“Love, is it always this complicated?”

“Love, like, love love?”

“What else?”

“For who? Me?”

“Who else?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Chaghan Suren why do you think I drag you away from your homework everyday to make you hang out with me? Why do you think I get nervous every time I do that because what if one day you don’t think it’s funny anymore and I accidentally piss you off? Why do you think I’m so afraid of pissing you off? Because I don’t want you to leave me! Why do you think I stop speaking halfway through a sentence all the time? My memory isn’t that bad, I don’t just forget what I was going say, it’s because you distract me. You’ll make some cute face or say something completely bizarre but adorable and I’ll have to stop myself from proposing on the spot. It’s insane,” he finished with a huff. Chaghan was speechless. He felt like screaming. He felt like running up to the roof and jumping off to see if he could fly. He felt like walking blindfolded across a highway at rush hour to see if chance would let him survive because CLEARLY fate was looking out for him today. There was no other explanation. Chaghan’s shock must have bled through his skin because Altan was laughing at him.

“And you know when we were fighting, I was so upset and so sad and all I wanted to do was talk to you about it because that’s my reflex, but I couldn’t. It all felt so twisted and cruel because the one person I love most was the one person I couldn’t have.”

Now Chaghan was sure he was dreaming. All this time he’d spent yearning and aching and splitting down the middle every other day and here Altan was telling him he loved him the entire time. Chaghan still couldn’t dig words out of the pit in his stomach so instead he closed the gap between them and wrapped Altan in an embrace. He held on to the soft fabric of his sweater and buried his face against his neck. He felt Altan’s strong arms close around him, he felt the muscles in his face shift against his cheek that let Chaghan know Altan was smiling. Earlier that day when Chaghan hugged Qara her love felt like comfort and safety. Altan’s love felt like retribution, his love felt like finally coming home.

\---

A week after their reunion things finally returned to normal. Navigating life with Altan firmly at his side was like balancing a scale. He felt stable. Now that neither of them had to wonder if the other returned their feelings there was a gaping hole of stress-free emotional energy that had previously been working overtime around the clock. Chaghan felt his academic focus returning to him. He felt himself branching out in directions other than Altan. He applied for a joint research grant under his favorite psych professor. He cracked open his sketchbook more and more frequently. He discovered that the North end of campus was where the students in his dreaded econ seminar went to blow off steam after class. He was coming back to himself and he’d learned there was no reason to be monopolized by one person. If part of him broke there were plenty of other foundations in his life that would prop him up. And then there was Altan. Altan who kissed him every morning over coffee. Who loaned him sweaters when it rained. Who asked Chaghan for help with his papers and patiently explained integrals in return. Who wholly and unabashedly loved him.

“Hey Chaghan,” Altan whispered. They were lying in Altan’s bed, Chaghan settled against Altan’s torso and Altan resting his book on Chaghan’s waist while he read over his shoulder.

“What?” Chaghan whispered back.

“Qara told me about your diary.”

“What?”

“She told me all about the love letters you write me.”

“They’re hardly love letters, more like excruciatingly detailed assaults on your character.”

“That’s not what she said.”

“When did you two start talking anyways?”

“During the Dark Times.”

“Oh yeah. Well stay out of my diary.”

“She told me where you keep it, but you never sleep in your bed anymore.”

“I’m about to if you don’t shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Okay.” Chaghan flipped over and brought his lips a hairs length from Altan’s. “This was all a ploy wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh.” Altan smiled shamelessly. Chaghan elbowed him in the ribs and laughed when Altan cried out.

“It worked,” Chaghan admitted honestly. He reached up and ran his fingers through Altan’s hair like he’d wanted to a million times before and closed the last bit of distance between them.

The End!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again just wanted to say thanks for reading and have a lovely lovely day!


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